


Riding Lessons

by Dame_Syrup (mary_pseud)



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Apple - Freeform, Bridle, F/M, Kinkmeme, Leather, Pony Play, Riding Crop, saddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 15:54:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15975584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mary_pseud/pseuds/Dame_Syrup
Summary: For the kinkmeme prompt Ten/Rose – pony play ["Okay, so you know that scene in Secret Diary of a Call Girl where Belle puts that gear on that guy and rides him like a horse (not sexually, but on his back, like a horse)?  Yeah. Can I have that, but with Ten/Rose?")





	Riding Lessons

The Doctor groaned around the hard rubber bit in his mouth, as Rose adjusted his saddle. How had she talked him into this?

  
Well, he knew the answer to that one: they had been playing the Wardrobe Game, where each of them pulled something out of one of the TARDIS' more interesting sealed cases, and the other had to use it. And she had gone along with the nerve sublimation belt, that had transferred the sensations from parts of her body to, ah, other parts, and left him excitedly caressing her from head to toe to find her new erogenous zones.

  
So now he was on hands and knees, wearing only a leather saddle and harness (he had drawn the line at the ominously-proportioned butt plug, and Rose had indulgently just buckled his 'tail' to the harness). He was a horse, he reminded himself. A beast of burden. And here came the burden.

  
Rose, wearing very brief, very tight leather that accentuated and revealed all her curves, and a high feathered plume knotted to her upswept hair. She smiled at him, letting him know that she was fully aware of how ridiculous they both looked, and how she wasn't going to let that stop her enjoying every minute of it.

  
He thought he could hear her wet flesh kiss the saddle as she sat atop him, and tapped his bare flank with her riding crop.

  
"Gee up," and he moved, crawling slowly and then faster, getting the heft of her, seeing her bare breasts jiggle in a mirror they passed (that jiggling matched by that of his rather urgent erection). She used the reins to guide him, circling the room.

  
His arms were starting to tire, and he thought that he could smell her excitement, woman and leather combined. He snorted and bucked, trying to shake her off.

  
"Whoa, whoa!" she said, and then dismounted. She rose and stepped round him, and then squatted back on her high-heeled boots, her flushed skin and proud pubis on bold display in front of him.

  
He snorted again, shaking his head, imaging himself as a stallion; and her the mare.

  
"No, no, horse. Now that you've had your exercise, I should give you a rubdown and currying, how's that sound? But first, I've got a nice slice of apple for you." She reached up and took the slice from a tray on the nearby table, and unbuckled his bit with the other hand. "And all you have to do is come get it."

  
She reached between her legs, and he watched entranced as the fruit slipped inside her, slick with her juices.

  
"Go on, horse. More where they came from," she whispered, and he trotted forward and bent his head to her, and started to feed. The apple crunched between his teeth, and he used his tongue to reach inside her, tasting salt and sweetness.

  
"Good horse," she moaned.


End file.
